


you're cold and i burn

by dandelionparasols



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: BaekXing, EXO Fic, Laybaek, M/M, exo laybaek, xingbaek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-30
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-07-19 07:13:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7351117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionparasols/pseuds/dandelionparasols
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How terribly cliché, Yixing reckons, that the most heartbreaking thing in his life should occur on a rainy day.<br/>It’s absolutely absurd. Of course, it is.<br/>It’s utterly ludicrous, because Baekhyun promised he won’t ever leave him, but now Yixing is all alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. half of my heart

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is cross-posted from AFF. There is also a Kai/Lu Han version.

How terribly cliché, Yixing reckons, that the most heartbreaking thing in his life should occur on a rainy day.

 

He has half the mind to laugh—break down in hysteric fits, even—as the movie- _likeness_ of his situation sinks in. It’s absolutely absurd. Of course, it is.

 

It’s utterly _ludicrous_ , because Baekhyun promised he won’t ever leave him, but now Yixing is all alone.

 

 

 

But perhaps that’s it. Perhaps that’s why. Perhaps Baekhyun left because his body got tired of keeping all the promises his lips had made. If only those promises are not dangled from every corner Yixing looked at. He’s sure reminders of those promises will come to haunt him, like ghosts in the darkness, except they also come in the light.

 

The reminders start with the rain, then, like how the promises had started with the rain.

 

 

 

_“Oh!” someone exclaimed, startling_ _Yixing_ _who was about to_ _unknowingly_ _place a foot into a puddle of rainwater._

 

 _Yixing_ _whipped his head to the side, only to get a second helping of being startled, when his gaze landed on the most stunning pair of eyes he had ever seen in his life._

 

_Stunning Pair of Eyes also happened to own a very attractive pair of_ _pink_ _lips, but right now_ _Yixing_ _could not see it because a hand is clamped to the person’s mouth out of sheepishness._

 

_“Sorry,” the person—a man—said hesitantly. “I just noticed that your shoes look really good. You don’t want them to get soaked in rainwater, do you?”_

 

 _Yixing would have bragged about his Italian leather shoes, but then the stranger bit on his lower lip and_ _Yixing_ _thought, Uh,_ no _, my shoes don’t look good because_ your eyes _look good and_ your mouth _too, and_ oh _, just the entirety of your face looks good._

 

_He must have been staring; in_ _Yixing_ _’s defense, it was kind of hard not to._ _Not when the stranger had this rectangular shape his lips took on when he smiled and bared two rows of teeth. It looked weird; yet Yixing was fascinated by it._

 

_The sound of the incessant drumming of raindrops hitting the pavement had become like a soundtrack to the shift in the air, or at least a shift in_ _Yixing_ _’s mood._

 

_For almost an hour now, he had been exasperated at the brewing storm—at himself too, for not bringing an umbrella when it had been forecasted that the days would be clothed in constant downpour. But now he could only look on as the stranger had opened his_ _big-ass black_ _umbrella and positioned himself beside_ _Yixing_ _to share._

 

 

 

It’s supposed to be hazy recollection, because the distance between now and that memory is a span of four years—a long time. Unfortunately, the details of that incident are quite lucid in Yixing’s mind, like a movie of collected memories is somehow playing in front of him right now.

 

He remembers the way the stranger had said his name was Byun Baekhyun, and how he smiled disarmingly, rendering Yixing mute for an extra ten seconds until he was able to gush out his own name. Remembers how Baekhyun had pulled Yixing underneath his umbrella and made him avoid all sorts of rain puddles as they walked.

 

“Don’t worry, Yixing-ah, I won’t let you get wet. Your shoes too! I promise.”

 

Cue quote.

 

_I promise…_

 

End quote.

 

He remembers the following days, too, how Baekhyun had started to pull Yixing closer to him each time he whipped out his umbrella. How Yixing would look beside him and always find the same pair of Really Stunning Eyes, and hear the same promise, and feel the warmth slowly becoming more familiar.

 

 

 

Clearly, he also remembers the first time Baekhyun had forgotten to bring his umbrella. What started out to be a sunshiny day suddenly turned into a gloomy dusk of medium rainfall. Yet instead of worrying about how they would get soaked to the bones by the rapidly increasing precipitation—like how he normally did—Baekhyun had pulled Yixing’s hand and urged both of them to dance underneath the pouring rain.

 

Yixing was the dancer, but it felt good to let Baekhyun lead for once, even though his moves were sloppy and uncoordinated and felt like his limbs were merely flailing akimbo.

 

It was silly, totally silly, because they’d gone home wearing water instead of clothes, and Baekhyun spent hours blow-drying Yixing’s shoes ("Baby, they might get ruined!") and repeatedly towel-drying Yixing’s hair and basically fussing over how his _boyfriend_ might get sick. But it was worth all the trouble, Yixing reckons, because in the midst of them laughing and squinting eyes as raindrops had pounded on their faces, Baekhyun instituted a new promise—to always make Yixing happy like that.

 

 

 

It keeps raining. It feels weird now to be sad amidst the rain. Yesterday, the cup of hot cocoa he had made himself tasted weird too. It had been better when Baekhyun made it. For all his inability to cook, Baekhyun made the world’s best hot chocolate, even without the small marshmallows that Yixing likes because Baekhyun always said they were pointless.

 

"They'd melt before you could even eat them, anyway."

 

Yixing feels coldness seeping into him that has nothing to do with the rain. At least not directly. He remembers he hasn't brought an umbrella with him. Again.

 

(Of course. He had always relied on Baekhyun for that, anyway.

 

Because Baekhyun offered he’d do it.

 

No. Baekhyun _promised_ he would.)

 

Several days previous, Yixing tried to stick an umbrella into his bag so his officemates won't pick on him. (Why did they think carrying an umbrella with you was unmanly again?) But when he opened it, it was too small to cover him and his backpack. And so the contraption only proved to be futile.

 

He chucked it into the nearest garbage can.

 

 

 

It seems the rain has no intention of stopping. Stopping from mocking Yixing, that is, because it only seems to rain when he is out and about. Whenever he is safe and dry within the confines of _his_ (not _their_ ) apartment or at the office (the only other place he goes to, now), the raindrops seem to hesitate from pouring.

 

He's about to get off from the shelter of their office building when he reflexively turns to the space beside him. It's empty. And even when he stares at it for too long, it doesn't cease being empty.

 

_Bugger._

 

Can't be expected for Baekhyun to suddenly materialize out of thin air, can it?

 

Of course. That's a molecular impossibility.

 

Just for the heck of it, he charges—umbrella-less—into the rain and deliberately lands a leather shoe-covered foot on each of the water puddles lying on his way.

 

 

 

Just when the sun decides to take over again, Yixing gets sick. Oh, the irony. It is not lost on him.

 

At least he is able to admit that the stunt he pulled the night previous was what got him into this mess. Still, that doesn't cancel out the fact that Yixing feels as if a hundred construction workers were pounding their hammers into his skull, and that underneath three mattresses he still feels cold (and hot at the same time), and that he aches all over his body (not just in his chest anymore, bollocks).

 

Too sick, he’s too sick that when he wakes at half-past two in the afternoon, he deems himself hallucinating.

 

It can't be right. He can't possibly be feeling the sensation of Baekhyun's body temperature that is lower than Yixing's own, pressed against his forehead.

 

Baekhyun's gentle palm. His delicate fingers push aside Yixing's sweaty fringe.

 

Soon enough, Baekhyun's voice starts filling his room and his consciousness. It's not possible. Or maybe Yixing has died and gone to heaven, and this is an angel who looks exactly like Baekhyun speaking to him?

 

But do they call someone who has recently died, an idiot when they go to heaven?

 

And do they berate him too? Because that is exactly what this angel is doing. He is giving Yixing a _Baekhyun_ scolding, only sans the screaming.

 

Ah, but at least this doppelganger Baekhyun makes him mushroom soup with pieces of crunchy toasted bread, helps him sit up, and fluffs Yixing's pillow, even as he's looking like he wants to thwack the latter's head for being ridiculously careless. And deliberately stupid.

 

Funny. Even this Baekhyun clone is like the original—equipped with his variety of words with which to say Yixing is an idiot.

 

“Now eat, you prat.” Ah, even the British English synonym has been invoked.

 

They don't speak anymore, not until the soup bowl has been emptied and Yixing has been made to swallow fever medicine.

 

"Are you Baekhyun's twin?"

 

The guy who is mistaken for a twin merely throws him a confused look.

 

"Or maybe you're an alien who took on the form of Byun Baekhyun. Because, you know, Baekhyun broke up with me and I don't think it plausible that he'd come to take care of me anymore."

 

Yixing doesn't mean to be callous; only irrevocably curious. And it must be the fever fogging his brain, likely still a crack of the hallucination, because he sees hurt spill into Baekhyun's expression.

 

It haunts him in his dreams.

 

Because his appearance is an exact replica of that which Baekhyun had worn the night he asked Yixing for his freedom.

 

Had Baekhyun always worn this expression on his face that Yixing only noticed too late?

 

And had it always been because of Yixing’s doing?

 

But _why_ would Baekhyun be hurting now? Surely it shouldn’t pain him whatever it is that concerns Yixing, because it was _he_ who ended their relationship, anyway. Why is Baekhyun acting like he still cares?

 

 

 

He doesn’t. He didn’t care enough to stay the next day.

 

And it’s no matter that Baekhyun left him some breakfast with a mug of hot chocolate on his bedside table when he woke up. This is merely the product of some guilt induced by breaking up with someone you promised to love for the rest of your life.

 

Of course. It’s the only logical explanation.

 

Yixing decides he’s seen enough of Baekhyun’s ghost in his apartment. So he drags himself to the office. But not before washing the dishes free of Baekhyun’s touch.

 

(The bed covers can wait changing for when he gets home after work.)

 

 

 

Cue Baekhyun’s ghost, standing a few steps away from the entrance of Yixing’s office building, underneath the pouring rain.

 

(Well, no, actually his body is under his big-ass black umbrella as per usual; but the previous description makes for a more dramatic feel, no? Yixing concurs.)

 

It cannot get any more dramatic, however, than when Baekhyun covers the distance between him and Yixing (unhurriedly, not because of some slow motion reel, but because Baekhyun’s legs and feet are smaller than most men’s). Yixing is frozen, figuratively, by the building exit; uncaring or unaware of the people trying not to bump into his back as they make their exit too. He is still frozen when Baekhyun grabs his right hand and wraps it around the umbrella’s handle, also closing his palms around Yixing’s fist.

 

Then Baekhyun’s feet quickly carry him—umbrella-less—away from Yixing and into the steadily pouring rain.

 

 

 

The touch felt too real, tingling in Yixing’s right fist, to insist it was Baekhyun’s ghost that held him.

Still, Yixing wishes Baekhyun would stop haunting him now.

 

 

 

People should know that memories are infinitely scarier than real ghosts.


	2. are you lonesome tonight?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the very much delayed update. *bows* It's just that I... wanted to do good. I owe it to PotatoBaek and XingXing! ♥
> 
> Do not expect much. I repeat, do not expect much. But expect angst, ok?
> 
> Also, the flow may be a bit clearer in this one. The first chapter is a weird on the flashbacks, so... *hides*

Baekhyun staggers into the small, dingy bar; instead of his eyes drifting to the corner booth where he had sat for the past couple of nights, they land on an old piano stationary just by the few tables. His legs take him towards it and he finally allows his hands to raise the wooden cover protecting the piano keys, allows his fingers to skate over the black and white teeth. He presses on a key, which emits a soft note, perfect amidst the low hum of conversations inside the bar.

 

Leeteuk, the barkeep, has noticed him eyeing the piano multiple times since he'd first entered the small bar. He's even urged Baekhyun to play something on the piano if he should ever like it, nobody's paid to attention to the thing in years. Most people are preoccupied with the booze anyway, he says, and would just drop coins into the much older jukebox beside the piano if they wanted a bit of music to change the mood.

 

For a week since he'd first stumbled into the bar, Baekhyun has drowned his thoughts in multiple glasses of vodka. Tonight, he forgoes the alcohol for something more bitter, but perhaps more cathartic. Baekhyun sits on the piano bench and fiddles with the keys for a short while, until he decides all of them are in tuned condition. The instrument is in good playing condition, as far as Baekhyun is concerned, surprising since it looks to be very old; not broken though, only worn by time, not by use. The other people in the bar pay him no heed as he starts on a customary exercise to test his hands and fingers. He ascends octaves, gaining speed and a little bit more confidence as he familiarizes himself with the touch of the piano once again.

 

Reacquainting with the beloved instrument, Baekhyun muses, is decidedly harsher than a cheap shot of alcohol, ushering in the memories instead of wiping them out for the night. It reinforces thoughts of that tall guy Baekhyun has spent many, many nights with, singing to and churning tunes on the piano for. A man whose song requests were always a very wide variety of the original soundtrack of films, including the silly tunes, the ones you hum randomly when you remember it in a day, and other more random tunes. There was that one time he asked for Hedwig's Theme, another time for Jeopardy's opening music, another time for the tune of some silly toothpaste commercial, then another time for Titanic's _My Heart Will Go On_.

 

Baekhyun struggles not to get lost too much in the memories, finally deciding on a particular song he intends to play for the night. The man in Baekhyun's thoughts had only listened to an edited version of the song from a movie called _The Game Plan_. In the movie, the protagonist sings the replaced lyrics to his crying daughter after an argument they've had, until they finally have a chance to talk. Soldiering on in remembering the notes to the Elvis Presley original, Baekhyun lets the melody hit the air of the almost empty bar, and sings to the deepening night.

 

 

 

_♫_ _Are you lonesome tonight?_

_Do you miss me tonight?_

_Are you sorry we drifted apart?_

_Does your memory stray_

_To a bright summer day_

_When I kissed you and called you ‘sweetheart?’_

 

_Do the chairs in your parlor seem empty and bare?_

_Do you gaze at your doorstep and picture me there?_

_Is your heart filled with pain?_

_Shall I come back again?_

_Tell me dear, are you lonesome tonight?_ _♫_

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

Too soon, the song ends and then he is only humming the melody as his fingers drum on the wooden table, on which a third glass of whisky is perched precariously. Regrettably even his fingers have a memory of their own, retracing the path they’ve taken on the piano just moments previously. The thumb, index finger, middle finger, ring finger, pinky seemingly drawing do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-ti on the table.

 

The other people inside the bar gave him a warm round of applause after he had finished with the song, and when he turned to look, it was to the most approving face of Leeteuk, his eyes smug like he discovered talent himself. But Baekhyun had only felt empty, after having let out some of the burden in his chest. When the bar patrons had asked for another performance, he smiled wryly and sadly said he only knew to play one. They left him in peace as he stumbled to ask for Scotch, downing the burning liquid down in one go, in an attempt to fill the void.

 

Like always, it had not worked.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

**Two weeks earlier**

 

The tragedy, Baekhyun thinks, is that he may never love again. It is inevitable, really, when you have found yourself the best possible person to love, and yet you let him slip away.

 

It's a fitting punishment, anyway, for abandoning the promises he had made. The only silver lining he allows to be drawn is that Yixing now has the opportunity to find someone else… someone better. With hands more adequate in preparing him food, making him eat his vegetables and not giving in to the slightest hint of groveling for junk food. With warmth more caring in shield Yixing's body that easily gets cold from what the rainy and winter seasons bring.

 

Someone who will bequeath proud smiles each time his boyfriend comes home saying he's crunched the numbers well at the office instead of drawing a blank at what his job entails. Someone whose feet will glide marvelously on their living room floor, hands clasped in Yixing, complementing the dancer that he is.

 

Someone who'll love Yixing properly, and who he'll love fully as well, affectionate words will come pouring out of Yixing’s mouth.

 

Baekhyun has half the mind to go live as a hermit deep in the woods where, every time he cries himself to sleep at night, no one will ever hear.

 

Before his next place of residence is decided upon, however, he remembers he needs to collect the last of his belongings lingering at Yixing's (not their) apartment. He relays this much to Jongdae, the only one among their shared friends who still talks to him anymore. Jongdae immediately offers to come along.

 

“It'll be quick, Jongdae. Only a few things left. You don't have to help—"

 

"I'm not doing it for your sake, Baekhyun," Jongdae cuts off sharply. He sighs, wanting to backtrack at how cold and bitter his voice had sounded. A hint of hurt flashes on the other's features, but it's erased as soon as it had been drawn. "Look, we're grateful when you took care of him when he was sick but you have to remember that you don't have to do that anymore."

 

_You don't have to visit him anymore. You don't have the right to, now._

 

Baekhyun wants to reply with as much raw honesty, "I'm hurting too, Jongdae. This pains me so much as well." But no good would come of that, it'll only confuse things. So he nods his head instead and pretends he doesn't want to fall apart right then and there.

 

 

 

***

 

 

 

"Baekhyun, what on earth are you doing?"

 

When Jongdae comes back up to Yixing's apartment from depositing into his car the last box containing Baekhyun's possessions, it is to find the latter sprawled on his back on the cold floor by the window. With arms spread open wide, he looks as if he's attempting to draw replicas of snow angels on the pool filled by the soft rays of the setting sun. Instead of granting words, Baekhyun beckons to the space beside him and smiles.

 

It's that wide grin that renders a rectangular shape out of his mouth, framing his pearly white teeth, the smile Jongdae hasn’t seen in a while.

 

Jongdae eyes the entrance door warily, but Baekhyun's words pull his attention back. "He won't come. He— he won't come back until he knows for sure I'm out of here. I'm a ghost to him now, Jongdae. And we both know Yixing is very much scared of ghosts. So just... Humor me for a second will you?"

 

Jongdae concedes and walks towards the windows. Crouching and putting a hand down to steady himself to lie face-up beside his slightly taller friend, Jongdae discovers the floor quickly steals the warmth from his body. He flinches but doesn't say anything as the corner of his eyes catches Baekhyun looking like he has more to say anyway.

 

“I chose this unit, do you know that? It’s the largest on this floor and the most expensive. Yixing wanted to say we could barely afford too much space we have no use for, anyway. But I— I insisted, you know? It’s because of the windows.”

 

Guilt makes its way into Jongdae’s gut at how easily he turns his attention towards the windows, just because he is afraid of looking at his friend’s face and finding misery there that is slowly becoming palpable at the sound of his voice. For days he’d been ashamed to admit that the only reason he isn’t one of those friends who’ve started avoiding Baekhyun when he broke up with Yixing, is because he wants to tell him off, wants to be the one to show Baekhyun he’s committing a mistake.

 

“This is a corner apartment, see. Which means if we stood near where the perpendicular windows meet, we’d be able to see the sunrise or the sunset depending on the time of day. It’s brighter this way, more windows let the sunshine in…

 

“Yixing is afraid of dark places, you know?”

 

It has felt more that he has allowed himself to still associate with Baekhyun out of a sense of loyalty to Yixing, more than friendship with Baekhyun himself. Now that he is slowly coming to uncover Baekhyun’s pain, he wonders if there is something that could be done to stop Baekhyun from subjecting himself to this misery, especially since it’s obvious that he still cares deeply about Yixing.

 

“But he didn’t want this apartment, Jongdae. He said we could’ve lived somewhere else… but I— I made us both go for jobs that pay much more so we could afford to live in here. I made him leave the job he likes so much, for…” Baekhyun tosses an arm into the air to gesture around the apartment.

 

“I also insisted on buying a set of coasters because I thought they matched the color of our coffee table, but I sometimes forget to use them that’s why… that’s why there are coffee stains… There are prints of the coffee cup’s butt on our table!”

 

The laugh that strays into Jongdae’s left ear is evidently strained, but even more so is Baekhyun’s voice that comes softer than when he’s goofing around, or babbling randomly. “In our bedroom there used to be a dozen pillows—a dozen, Jongdae! I told Yixing it’s so that he could replace his pillow when it feels too hot and overused, but I hog most of the pillows anyhow or… or kick them off the bed and leave almost none for him…

 

“And his pet dogs, oh god— I…” Baekhyun’s voice genuinely cracks this time, as he places an arm over his eyes. “I made him give away Mongryoung and the others, because I wanted us to h-have children and I said he should devote his time only to family, to m-me…”

 

Jongdae finally earns the courage to take a look this time as the sobs rack through Baekhyun’s body. He looks like he’s less tall now, shrinking because of the weight of all he’s been carrying. Jongdae wants to hold his hand, wants to say sorry for the moments he’s doubted if Baekhyun ever truly loved Yixing. Because why does anyone ever decide to leave the person he claims to have loved?

 

He wants to impart words of comfort, but he figures he should allow Baekhyun to let it all out first.

 

Baekhyun does, even though he has to spill sentences wedged between his weeping and heavy breaths. “It was all about me, Jongdae… it’s… Our relationship had been all about me. I made promises… said promises, even though it was always him who made sacrifices…

 

“The few times he ever said I love you, it’s because I pressured him to, Jongdae. I couldn’t fucking handle that I was the more affectionate one even when I knew he only needed some time! Time to process his feelings… time to contribute to our relationship by his own accord.”

 

“And I’m sorry…” Baekhyun sits up abruptly and turns to Jongdae, his face free of its shield, but breaths still shackled to the intensity of his grief. “I’m sorry that after all I’ve put him through, I still l-left h-him… I still made h-him think he wasn’t doing enough…”

 

Jongdae pulls him into a fierce hug. It isn’t enough to wholly comfort his friend, Jongdae thinks, but he tries anyway, tries to lay a hand on the small of Baekhyun’s back and rub soothingly across.

 

After a few moments, Baekhyun sighs and allows himself to be comforted by another person for the first and last time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *takes a peek from behind hiding place* So what do you think? Let me know, please~ https://twitter.com/oddmentblubber
> 
> Mongryoung is Baekhyun's dog, I know.
> 
> Give me some love! ♥♥♥

**Author's Note:**

> Read it on AFF: http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/1085997/you-re-cold-and-i-burn-exo-baekhyun-yixing-laybaek-baekxing


End file.
